The Bars of Iron eBook

And, as she stood waiting, through her heart, softly,
triumphantly, the message came, spoken in the voice
she had come to hear through all other voices.

“It is the Star of Hope, Avery; yours—­and
mine.”

But even as she watched with all her spirit a-quiver
with the wonder of it, the vision passed; the star
was veiled.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE DARK HOUR

Avery was very early at the church on the following
morning, and had begun the work of decorating even
before Miss Whalley appeared on the scene. It
was a day of showers and fleeting gleams of sunshine,
and the interior of the little building flashed from
gloom to brilliance, and from brilliance back to gloom
with fitful frequency.

Daffodils and primroses were littered all around Avery,
and a certain subdued pleasure was hers as she decked
the place with the spring flowers. She was quite
alone, for by the Vicar’s inflexible decree all
the elder children, with the exception of Olive, were
confined to the schoolroom for the morning with their
respective tasks.

The magnitude of these tasks had struck dismay to
Avery’s heart. She did not privately believe
that any one of them could ever be accomplished in
the prescribed time. But the day of reckoning
was not yet, and she put it resolutely from her mind.
It was useless to forestall trouble, and her own burden
of toil that day demanded all her energies.

The advent of Miss Whalley, thin and acid, put an
end to all enjoyment thereof. She bestowed a
cool greeting upon Avery, and came at once to her
side to criticize her decoration of the font.
Miss Whalley always assumed the direction of affairs
on these occasions, and she regarded Avery’s
assistance in the place of Mrs. Lorimer’s weak
efforts in something of the light of an intrusion.

Avery stood and listened to her suggestions with grave
forbearance. She never disputed anything with
Miss Whalley, which may have been in part the reason
for the latter’s somewhat suspicious attitude
towards her.

They were still standing before the font while Miss
Whalley unfolded her scheme when there came the sound
of feet in the porch, and Lennox Tudor put his head
in.

His eyes fell at once upon Avery. He hesitated
a moment then entered.

She turned eagerly to meet him. “Oh, how
is the Squire this morning? Have you been up
to the Abbey yet?”

“The Squire!” echoed Miss Whalley.
“Is he ill? I was not aware of it.”

Avery’s eyes were fixed on Tudor’s face,
and all in a moment she realized that he had been
up all night.

He did not seem to notice Miss Whalley, but spoke
to Avery, and to her alone. “I have just
come back from the Abbey. The Squire died about
an hour ago.”

“The Squire!” said Miss Whalley again,
in staccato tones.

Avery said nothing, but she turned suddenly white,
so white that Tudor was moved to compunction.